Wish You Were Here, Love Pezberry
by ataleoffiction
Summary: Filled in a prompt for the Santana Lopez Drabble Meme by smc-27, which was a lot of fun. Oneshot, AU college.


**Wish You Were Here, Love Pezberry**

**Summary:** Filled in a photo prompt for the Santana Lopez Drabble Meme by smc-27, which was a lot of fun. Oneshot, AU college.

http: / santana-lopez. livejournal. com/ 6320. html? thread= 1096880# t1096880

Team Gay thinks it's a wonderfully awesome idea to pull their money and rent a house in Southampton because, shit, it's April and there's a fucking heat wave going on and no one has any classes on Friday. Except Mike, who even taught children's hip hop dance on Saturdays - poor bastard. The four of them have been hitting this Crossfit gym at the Flatiron building by their apartment, so Santana knows her body is fucking ready. She side eyes Rachel as the girl lays next to her in that ridiculously small teal bikini and knows, seriously knows, her body's on point.

Thankfully, she'd given up veganism and allowed herself to eat fish, and stopped driving Santana, Blaine and Kurt miserable. Santana remembers her joke about 'liking fish, too', and the 15 minutes of laughter they'd all shared at Rachel's expense. But really, all that extra protein did wonders for her body.

Rachel's hand flits by Santana's hip, not-so-absentmindedly playing with the tie on the side of the Latina's bikini bottom. She pulls at the string, just a touch. "I can't believe those boys went to go fishing!"

"No shit, I doubt Klaine has caught a fish in their miserable little lives."

"Poor Nemo! Wait... Klaine?" Rachel pulls her purplish, oversized sunglasses down her nose and her brow creases, mildly confused. Her eyes just shimmer like pools of melted chocolate in the sunlight and, good fucking christ, Santana feels herself go damp between the legs.

And yeah, Santana has noticed this is the third time Rachel's given a little tug at the knot holding the lower half of her two-piece together. She'll probably find herself naked from the waist down by lunchtime, if "Kurt slash Blaine. Klaine. It's their, you know, mash-up name."

"Oh, you mean a portmanteau?"

"Okay, this fucking conversation is over." Santana whips one of the sport bottles filled with Tito's vodka and pomegranate lemonade. Rachel squawks as the ice cold bottle lands between her breasts and she tries to wipe her chest clean, really she does, but the water's just smearing all over and making her nipples hard.

To her credit, Rachel takes a big gulp of their spiked lemonade and stays quiet for 13 minutes.

Santana grins when she feels an even bigger tug on her hip, and she has to bite her cheek to keep from thinking about just shucking her clothes off and mounting Rachel right in front of everyone.

"What do you think our name would be?"

"What?"

"Our portmanteau," Rachel tugs the string again when Santana refuses to even turn her head. "Fine! Our mash-up name, what do you think it would be? Pezberry?"

Santana scoffs, finally turning her head towards her friend. "Rach, that's fucking stupid. It'd be Sanchel, for sure. Or even LoBerry, shit."

Rachel licks her lips and presses a finger to her chin in thought and God, they're fucking shiny is the only thing running around in Santana's brain right now.

"How about Rachtana?"

"Oh, hell to the no!"

"Say it, it rolls right off the tongue."

"It's worse than Pezberry, and the only thing I'm gonna want rolling off your tongue is my dripping pussy if you're going to keep undoing my bikini like that." She lightly swats at Rachel's hand, which has just fallen still against her hip.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, 'oh'. Now, if you don't mind, we've got another 18 minutes before we're supposed to flip over. So... either just lemme catch some rays or start fingering me, I don't care which. Your choice." The middle aged couple next to them looks mildly affronted - well, the wife has a surprised expression, but hubby there has the biggest fucking smile on his face.

"Aww, you're so cute when you're grouchy!"

Santana grumbles cause it's pretty fucking true, but feels entirely too happy when Rachel laces their fingers together. Their hands are clasped tight, and she really, truly questions why they don't do this more often. "That's not really what I meant by fingering."

"This is a public beach, Santana. And I think Mr. Elmer P. Rogers over there may have a heart attack if we engage in any sort of sexual... indiscretions out on the open."

"So back at the house then?"

"Only if you behave yourself until then."

Well, shit on her if Santana didn't notice how well her friend can just fucking get her flirt on.

"Oh, hold up!" Santana grips Rachel's hand tightly as she fishes her iPhone out from underneath her hat. Rachel hears that ridiculous, synthesized click of the non-existent shutter and peers over to see Santana's thumb flying across the touch screen.

"What are we doing?"

Santana lifts up the phone so the screen is facing down towards Rachel's face, out of the glare of the late-morning sun. "Check it babe."

Rachel can see the picture of the two of them lying side by side, ocean peeking in from between their feet.

_TO: Mike Chang_

_'Wish you were here, Mikey. Much love. -Pezberry'_


End file.
